


The Mint Green Scarf

by fisherford40



Category: Star Wars RPF
Genre: F/M, carrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7875919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fisherford40/pseuds/fisherford40
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison's getting ready to attend a movie premiere and realizes he has a bit of a problem that is all Carrie's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mint Green Scarf

“Carrie Frances Fisher!” Harrison growled loudly from the bathroom of their hotel suite in London. He’d gone in to change and after pulling on his pants he’d put his arms into his dress shirt and started buttoning it as he'd looked in the mirror. His hands had stilled on the buttons and his mouth had fallen open in shock as he'd finally registered his reflection in the mirror.

“What, dear?” she called, her voice floating from the bedroom to the bathroom, sounding unaffected by the tone of his voice. 

“Get your ass in here!” he yelled, still staring at himself in the mirror. He gripped the edges of the sink counter and leaned closer as if, upon closer inspection, he’d realize he was only imagining things. 

“What in the world is wrong with you?” Carrie asked, walking into the bathroom. She noticed his shirt was still half unbuttoned and furrowed her brow. “Do you need help buttoning your shirt?” she asked, thoroughly confused. 

Harrison turned on her then, pointing a finger at her. “You!” he said, jabbing his finger into the air towards her. “This is all your fault!”

“What? Harrison, what are you…” Carrie’s words trailed off as she looked at him and her mouth formed a smirk and then grew to a large grin before she started laughing. 

“This isn't funny, Carrie!” Harrison exclaimed, exasperated as he threw his hands in the air. Carrie put a hand over her mouth, trying to cover her laughter, but it wasn't working one bit. 

“Yes, it is,” she managed to whisper between her laughter. 

“It most certainly is not,” he hissed. “I'm sixty-eight years old, I'm going to a movie premiere, and you,” he said, poking her in the chest, “gave me a fucking hickey.” He whispered the word as if it were something awful and Carrie’s laughter only doubled. 

“I- I'm,” she started to say, but she was laughing too hard to speak. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. “I'm sorry,” she said. Then she shook her head, laughing again. “No, I'm not. I'm not sorry.”

“Carrie!” he whined. “I'm mad at you,” he said, pouting.

Carrie only snickered, lifting her hands to finish the buttons of his shirt. “Oh really?” she drawled, her fingers trailing lazily under the still unbuttoned top of his shirt and across his chest. “You didn't seem to mind when I was sucking at your neck,” she said, her voice low as she looked up at him, a seductive smile on her face. 

Harrison groaned. “I'm still mad at you,” he insisted, but his voice was softer now. “What the hell am I supposed to do about it?” he asked as she finished buttoning his shirt. 

“Calm down, honey, we’ll put some makeup over it and you can wear a scarf. It'll be fine,” she assured him, patting his cheek lightly. She angled her chin up and softly kissed his neck over the mark she’d left on him, laughing. “If you're going to wear a scarf anyway, maybe I should give you some more,” she whispered against his skin, moving her lips to the side of the mark and sucking gently, teasingly. 

Harrison moaned, grabbing her hips. “Stop,” he said tensely, pushing her back. “You keep that up and I won't be making it to the premiere.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” she said, grinning at him as she snuck her hands around him and cupped his ass. 

“Carrie,” he warned, his fingers tightening instinctively around her hips.

Carrie winked at him, standing on her tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his chin. “Fine,” she said, sighing as she moved out of his grip and turned around to walk back into the bedroom, purposefully swaying her hips as she did so. “Let me find you a scarf. I'll be right back!”

Harrison rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror, trying to keep himself calm. How could she still affect him so strongly after so many years? He turned on the tap and splashed a bit of cold water on his face, drying it with a hand towel. “Where's your make up?” he called to her.

“One second!” came her reply. She reentered the bathroom a minute later, carrying a few scarves in her hands, as well as her makeup bag. She placed the items on the counter and dug into the bag, taking out her concealer and some powder. “Here,” she said, standing in front of him and covering the mark the best she could. When she’d finished, she stepped back and inspected her work. “Good enough, the scarf will cover the rest.”

Carrie put the makeup back in the bag and considered the scarf options. She settled on a mint green one that would add a bright color to his outfit. She wrapped it around his neck and pulled back, surveying her handiwork. “Perfect. No one will notice,” she assured him. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said gently, glancing at himself in the mirror to double check before he turned back to her. He rested his hands lightly on her hips again and leaned his head down, kissing her sweetly. He smiled then as he looked into her eyes.”When I get back from this premiere, I think I'm going to have to give you a matching one,” he said, his voice low as he bent his head and sucked gently at her neck, chuckling against her skin. 

Carrie only grinned at him as he pulled back. “That's an excellent idea, hotshot,” she said, winking at him. “Makes up for me hiding out in this hotel so no one knows I’m here with you. Have fun. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “Maybe I'll give you two,” he teased, squeezing her hips before he left her standing in the bathroom laughing to herself over the absurdity of it all.


End file.
